you are a place.
the red insides
of my grey car.
the green grassy
stretch where
we met. a long
road, a short drive
to absolutely
everywhere.
you are a house,
a home with
grey shingles and
a swimming pool
we never swam in.
you are everything
but a girl i knew,
and i wish to
heavens end
that you were just
simply that.
1 comment:
are you coming home yet?
please,
plague me with your anonymity.
(i'm too stubborn to admit
that i miss.
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